


Aşk

by Mareshire



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Author intended to write fluff, Author should sleep, Author wrote this instead, Because author cried, Comforting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Loss, M/M, Tags are way too spoiling, Ugh, dove!Ashiku, have fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareshire/pseuds/Mareshire
Summary: He loved her more than anything — and it was just natural. She was like the only thing attaching him to his father that didn’t involve breaking the law or fighting dangerous organizations.Ashiku was his favorite.





	Aşk

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry.

Shinichi pushed the ajar door until his eyes were able to catch the figure sitting on his bed. It had been a week. Kaito hadn’t moved more than necessary — ‘necessary’ meaning going to the bathroom and back to bed, because Shinichi had taken care of carrying his food upstairs. The magician’s legs were against his chest, chin resting on his knees, and his melancholic eyes were looking through the window, following every bird he could catch sight of.

His knuckles knocked the door, though he didn’t wait for permission to come in. It was more like a way of letting Kaito know he was there. Then again, his boyfriend wouldn’t do more than just nodding as an acknowledgement of his presence.

“Kaito.” Shinichi approached him. He sat on the bed beside Kaito’s feet. His fingers tightened around the mug he was holding when his only response was a brief gaze of indigo eyes. “I brought you some tea. Figured you’d like something to take.”

Kaito embraced himself further, his arms surrounding his legs as if he’d fall apart if he let go. “Thanks,” he said. His voice sounded tired and, beyond everything, deeply sad, “but I don’t feel like it.”

“You gotta eat something,” Shinichi insisted, moving the mug nearer Kaito as if to make his point clearer. “You haven’t eaten today yet. Gotta take care of yourself, you know.”

“Shinichi, I’m serious.” Kaito sighed. His shoulders went up and down with a shrug. “I’m fine. Just… Leave me alone, would you?”

Shinichi took a deep breath before standing up. Instead of leaving the bedroom, he placed the tea mug on the bed table and then crawled on the bed until Kaito’s side. The magician barely shifted, his chin sinking further on the pajama pants covering his legs. Carefully, Shinichi raised a hand, fingering his way up Kaito’s arm. When Kaito didn’t yank him away, he went on until he could stroke his cheek.

Kaito didn’t move. His face remained unaffected. The only move acknowledging Shinichi’s touch was white teeth sinking down on his bottom lip, biting down the flesh until it became red. Shinichi didn’t like it.

“Kaito,” he called, though he got no answer.

Sighing, he moved his hand to the back of Kaito’s neck and then slid it through his other cheek. With a gentle push, he asked more than obligated Kaito to look at him. The magician’s neck gave in, and then Shinichi were able to look into his boyfriend’s apathetic eyes. They were unsteady, iris fluttering and looking up through dense, long, dark eyelashes that always managed to take Shinichi’s breath away.

“Kaito…” Shinichi’s other hand came up, fingers twisting themselves with the disheveled, brown locks of Kaito’s hair. He brushed it, gently stroking his scalp. “You know you don’t have to go through this by yourself, don’t you? I’m here, with you, by your side. I’m not going away. Don’t leave me out, okay?”

And though Kaito bit harden down on the flesh of his lip, or shut his eyes closed, or even fisted his hands until the knuckles became white, sooner than later his bottom lip were standing out in a constant shaking, his thick, lovely eyelashes watering as small drops emerged from his eyes.

Shinichi let his hand fall down from Kaito’s cheek to his arm, pulling him closer until he could completely surround him in a warm embrace that had the magician sobbing harder. Shinichi wasn’t an expert consoling people. However, he liked considering himself an expert on his boyfriend — so, he did the only thing that came to his mind. He changed their positions until Kaito was between his legs, the magician’s face hidden in the junction of his neck as he continued to silently cry, and he caressed as much as he could.

His hands ran through Kaito’s arm up and down once, twice, thrice, a million times. Then he brushed his hair, intertwining his fingers with it. Gentle digits scratched his scalp, while soft strokes were given to every naked part of his body.

Shinichi shushed him. He whispered one thousand comforting words on his ear, telling him how valuable, precious and loved he was. He didn’t know if Kaito was listening to him or not. The sobbing didn’t lowered, so he kept babbling about beautiful magicians in white suits, about gems and tricks, about amazingness and, basically, describing how he had fell in love. He told Kaito everything he could. He talked about doves too.

And Kaito sobbed harder, nuzzling the skin of his neck.

That was it. Kaito’s dove had died a week before. Her name was Ashiku (how the magician were able to differentiate them, Shinichi didn’t know. She just looked like any other dove for him. Nevertheless, if Kaito said it was Ashiku, he’d do no other thing than believe him), and she was one of Kaito’s favorites. Her dad had given her to him, so obviously Kaito loved her. Kaito loved her more than he loved his KID’s suit. Kaito loved her more than he loved waking up late, with the breakfast on the bed table and kisses delivered all along his neck. He loved her more than he loved his card gun. He loved her more than anything — and it was just natural. She was like the only thing attaching him to his father that didn’t involve breaking the law or fighting dangerous organizations.

Ashiku was his favorite.

She was his favorite because of the time he had spent with her. She was an old dove. She could barely steadily fly when Shinichi first met her. Kaito had her place reserved in a special spot of his attic (he never enclosed his beloved doves in _cages_. They weren’t animals; they were his little children, and he’d never close them off. Never) — “The warmest, more comfy spot here,” he had said while giggling.

Her spot was near the window. Kaito kept it open, just in case his kids (he always referred to them that way) felt like going out for a while. It was, in fact, warmer than the rest of the attic. He could observe Ashiku looking through the window too, so he supposed the dove liked admiring the people passing by, maybe even the snow falling during winter.

Shinichi asked Kaito why he kept her there. For what he knew, Kaito loved all his doves, so it seemed a little unfair for the rest Ashiku’s privileges — and Kaito hated privileges.

But the magician just sadly smiled, his hand petting — caressing — Ashiku’s head while she cooed. “My father gave her to me. She was my first dove — I mean, I had worked with my father’s doves before, but she was the first one I truly possessed. My first dove. But when my father died, I could barely face her — too much memories, you know? So I kept her here, window closed and all, for months. One day, my mother forgot to close the attic, and she just flied to my bedroom. I was crying. I wasn’t over my father’s death yet. But she, with her small, cute head, just kept hitting me and cooing until I acknowledged her presence.” Then, Kaito’s smile brightened, though Shinichi could still see how talking about his father’s death affected him. “She helped me. It was thanks to her that I could be able to hold a deck again. She’s just too precious for me.”

And Shinichi knew he meant it. Kaito’s eyes shone brighter whenever he practiced a trick and Ashiku was there. He normally didn’t make her fly and used to carry her everywhere so she wouldn’t wore herself out. He was conscious of her age. He knew they had lived just too many years together, and that Ashiku wouldn’t last as long as he’d like — which was as long as he was alive.

It didn’t smoothen the lost, though.

It had hit him. Hard. That morning when Ashiku had flied in their bedroom and sneaked in between Kaito’s arms, he had freaked out. He practically scolded the dove about how dangerous it was for a old lady her age to make such a distance just to sneak into some random guy’s bed (Shinichi had to laugh, because then Kaito had babble about her irresponsibility and how ladies didn’t do things like that and _what a relief I’m a gentleman, who knows what could happen if I happened to be some weird zoophilic lunatic_ ), but it didn’t last long before he realized something important: his dove hadn’t cooed. And she always cooed whenever she was near Kaito.

She just looked tired. Tired and, somehow, sad. Her red eyes weren’t as wide open as they used to be, and she didn’t flutter her wings to make Kaito carry her somewhere. She just stayed in the bed before Kaito, her little body trying to find a good spot to lie there.

Shinichi wasn’t a completely oblivious idiot. He had some ideas about animals’ behavior, and while Kaito’s doves weren’t usual doves (as if the magician could have anything usual), especially Ashiku, he knew something was off. And if Kaito’s mood change was something to go by, he knew too.

He stayed with Ashiku all day in the bedroom. Shinichi left them alone to give them some privacy. The last thing he could hear before closing the door was Kaito relating Ashiku some of their adventures together.

The day passed by. He brought Kaito — and Ashiku — something to eat, and everytime he made an appearance, it was barely recognized with a nod or a simple wave of hand. Shinichi took it. He knew Kaito was immersed in some kind of time travel with his beloved dove before — well, before whatever was to happen to her.

The response came late at night.

Shinichi entered the bedroom to get some sleep sometime around two in the morning. He had been working on some cases, hoping that time was enough for Kaito to catch up with everything he wanted to catch up with Ashiku. The sleep finally took over him, and he decided it was time to let Kaito know they needed to sleep — as well as the dove, probably.

Kaito was sitting on the floor when he came in. He had his legs up, the back against the bed, and was rocking something in his arms. Shinichi’s ears caught a barely audible hum, and he needed a couple of seconds to realize it was Kaito humming. He was humming — humming while rocking Ashiku. It took him a full minute to sadly admit that it rather was Ashiku’s _body_.

Silently, he approached Kaito. The magician didn’t stop his song — a lullaby, it seemed — neither did he stop rocking his child. He just went on, his body almost shaking, Shinichi noticed when he seated beside Kaito and passed an arm over the magician’s shoulders.

Kaito stopped then. And then, with the most innocent, broken, sincere, lost voice Shinichi had ever heard coming of him, he murmured, “She isn’t moving, Shinichi. I was singing her a lullaby to sleep when she stopped moving. Why doesn’t she move? She looks like she’s dead like this. How can I make her understand it isn’t funny?”

Shinichi didn’t want to tell him that maybe she looked dead because she actually was. He suspected Kaito already knew despite his denial.

He didn’t respond. He shifted, turning his body so he could surround the magician with both his arms in what he hoped was a comforting embrace — with the dove, obviously, between them, Kaito still gently holding her as the most precious being in this world.

Kaito cried then. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t concealed. It was the most desperate cry Shinichi had ever heard.

Kaito clutched at him as if he was afraid of falling apart if he let go. His shoulders shook, his body was tensed, and Shinichi felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for not being able to do anything else than stand there, hugging him and thinking about what could make him feel better.

He understood, with Kaito mesmerizing in his arms, that there wasn’t anything he could say. There wasn’t. Kaito wasn’t going to feel better.

It was the same now. One week later, there wasn’t still anything he could tell Kaito to make him feel better. Kaito hadn’t come over it yet, either. One week later, he still felt vulnerable. One week later, he still looked at birds and thought of Ashiku. One week later, he still couldn’t hear his other doves cooing without bursting into tears. One week later, he still missed Ashiku.

When Kaito calmed down a bit, he kept sobbing on Shinichi’s neck. Shinichi’s t-shirt was covered in tears and he was pretty sure Kaito had runny-nosed all his neck. He didn’t care.

“Why does it hurt so fucking much?” Kaito asked at some point. His voice sounded even breaker than before.

Shinichi sighed. His hand caressed Kaito’s arm once again, trying to warm up the skin. It was getting colder, but he didn’t dare to move. “Because you love her.”

And like that, Kaito’s cries were heard in the room again, reverberating through the four walls that had witnessed one of the saddest death cases Shinichi had ever seen.

Kaito loved Ashiku. He still did — like he still loved his father. It was fine for him to feel broken. It was right. He was allowed to cry. He didn’t have to be strong. After all, losing his beloved ones was something always had scared Kaito the most. Even if he said fish were his only fear, he lied.

He was utterly and completely scared of death.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, look at the time. It's like 2.26am and I have a beautiful math exam tomorrow on which my future depends. Yup. Such good decisions I make *nodding while aggresively crying on a corner*
> 
> EXPLANATIONS (I love this point)
> 
> 1\. Aşk is a Turkish word which means love. I tried to make Ashiku's name after its pronunciation. I said I tried. It's hard, okay? And it's way too late to make me think, so, yeah, no more explanations. There you go, sad souls. Let me sleep in peace.
> 
> Mare's still happy if you leave a kudou (or not, because poor Kaito ;-;) and a comment pointing out my incredible mistaked because, damn, have I said it's fucking late? As if my english was anywhere near good at this time. As if my english was good at all, duh.
> 
>  
> 
> — NOT BETA-READ FOR OBVIOUS REASONS (and I should have put it down at the beggining, but I had this desire of just writing "I'm so sorry" because, dude, that's me everytime I write something) —


End file.
